Lamentations of the Forgotten and the Furred
by Werecat Boy
Summary: When Philip, the mansion's tubby werecat liveryman, organizes a group of Gracey Manor's other supernatural creatures to demand more representation, the fur and scales really fly!


This is an idea that AquarianWolf and I had been discussing a little while ago. Having a fat werecat character named Philip myself, I realized just how little there is of other supernatural creatures within the mansion, or have very little representation. So I figured it would be fun to see what would happen if they demand more representation. A big thanks to AquarianWolf for her editing help and some ideas, and more to come hopefully soon! :)

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Philip stood at the head of the long oval table within the mansion's study, surveying the room. It was one of the few quiet places within the manor as it hosted the weekly meetings. The fat liveryman always reigned over the proceedings, having taken upon it himself to be elected as the chairman of the committee since founding it. For years he felt that the others had been grossly neglected as well, and witnessed this as a perfect opportunity for them to connect with one another.

"This meeting of the Society of Deceased Magical Beings and Beasts will now come to order!" Philip raised his voice across the room. Using a little squeaking pet toy hammer (a gag gift that Asher left for Christmas for his favorite "tubby tabby"), he attempted to silence the room. In a moment all quiet murmurings along the table ceased.

The group had always consisted of the usual members - Count (Vasile) Dracula, the half-brother of the most infamous Dracula; the gorgon Medusa; the absentminded and constantly bungling Witch of Walpurgis; Irisi the Egyptian panthress, and her rebellious weretiger child Sanura; the untrustworthy conman and werewolf Rothbert McGrogan; and a newcomer to their group, a teenaged medieval prince and amateur sorcerer by the name of Nekeesorf, who had accidentally cursed himself with an everlasting werecentaur spell.

Philip looked about the room, casting nervous glances at everyone. In his corpreal form, he shifted about anxiously in his chair, making the old piece of furniture groan loudly from having to support his husky load. The news wasn't promising or comfortable to tell, but he knew the others must know. "Now then, I organized this meeting especially today to discuss an important topic that Irisi has brought here before," the liveryman spoke with grave concern in his voice. "One of our very own spooks are causing a grave disturbance here at the mansion..."

"If dose teenagers didn't vant themselves bitten then they shouldn't be doing it next to my tomb!" the Count angrily answered, pounding a fist on the table. "The last thing I vant to hear are hormone raging kiddies shouting about how good it is to vone another vhile I'm trying to concentrate and hypnotize Eugenia. It alvays ruins my chances!"

Philip's pudgy face went blank as he stared ahead. "Uh, that's not exactly what I had meant..."

"Even with hypnotism, I doubt she would even be taken in by you," Nekeesorf answered sarcastically. He tipped himself back in his chair smugly, while running a hand through his red paige boy styled hair. "You have none of the so-called savoir faire you have claimed to inherited from your brother."

The Count's black eyes narrowed into a dark coal-black glare. "I vouldn't talk if I vere you, my little pony. You may have been burned by your people fer being a sorcerer, but it vas more likely fer not having to be ruled by a real life horse's ass!"

"Oh, insults from Count Chocula," the teenager ran a finger down his cheek indicating an invisible mock tear. "I feel so hurt."

"That's enough!" Philip bellowed, making everyone jump. The servant was normally always the quiet type, but his patience was running thin when it came between the Count and Nekeesorf. "We need to all cooperate and stick together in this! Nobody wants to hear about the various...um, amorous escapdes near the Count's tomb."

"Actually, Philip I did believe I heard your name called by your little blonde pidgeon vone evening..." Vasile beamed a toothy smile at the liveryman.

The stable boy's round cheeks flushed bright red as he appeared to grow flustered, eliciting giggles and smirks from everyone else in the room. "Moving on...as I was saying, Irisi has given us some very important news. Now you've known for the longest time that us magical beings have been banned from making appearances to the public when George allows in certain people for tours. He's often ignored us and our questions about why. Irisi confronted him about this today, and received an...interesting answer." The pudgy ghost turned to the Egyptian princess. "Perhaps you should tell the rest of the group."

"Gladly," the princess responded in a throaty purr. "I ran into George early this evening, and alerted him of how we all felt about the woeful neglect within this mansion. Using the best of my cunning..."

"Also known as the best of your hopeless seduction attempts with him..." her daughter scoffed back.

Irisi whipped her head quickly down at her gothic daughter, giving a hard stare. "That's enough, Sanura!"

Medusa looked next to the Witch of Walpurgis seated beside her. Despite the appearance of the portait, the gorgon's ghost was neither completely the beautiful young maiden, nor the snarling stone creature. Instead she appeared as now the young woman, but with a mess of red unruly snakes replacing her fiery hair. "What is with werecreatures and vampires and the constant randiness of them?"

The young Witch's green eyes, appearing in a half awake daze, sudden lit up and grew wide. Flailing out her arms wide open, she shouted, "The nature of the beast!", and flopped face down on the table. Everyone around her simply ignored this behavior, as it was typical of the sorceress and her desire to insantly sleep for concentration.

"Hey Count, perhaps you and Miss Kitty could get together there," Nekeesorf grinned with a smarmy expression. "Both of you apparently are dateless wonders."

"I'll have you know, petulant brat that I had men falling all over themselves for me when I ruled Egypt!" the princess huffed indginantly.

"From what disease was it?"

"All right, will all of you just shut up!" Philip shouted, pounding his open palm down on the table. The fat servant was well known throughout the mansion for carrying on loud tantrums whenever he didn't get his spoiled way. Especially when Hal the chef informed him that he hadn't baked any new batches of cookies. As the room fell silent, he softened his tone and cleared his throat once again. "Now then, Irisi will you please tell the others what George stated."

The princess nodded graciously. "The Master has stated and I quote "I am sorry, but I still refuse to allow any supernatural creatures to be present when a mortal is within the mansion. Their behavior is considered too dangerous...""

"Dangerous!" Rothbert from his corner grumbled. His shoulders were stooped over, as his squat stovepipe hat almost covered his dark bearded face. "He refuses us to be seen, yet he allows that psycho wench of a bride to run loose in the attic!"

"Well, no offense," Philip tried to gently interject. "But you did try to maul the last two who came here when the full moon came out."

"Well pardon me!" the conman growled back sarcastically. "Do you think living off those little gamey rabbits out in the forest is going to keep me nourished? I need something that has lots of muscle or fat on it!"

"I bet when Philip was alive he would have made a week's dinner worth then," Nekeesorf grinned.

"Hey!" the liveryman angrily shouted back.

"I know vhat you mean, Rotty," the Count chimed in, ignoring the chattering between Philip and the prince, and looking equally disgruntled as his werewolf comrade. "It's so hard to find any good type of meal around here any more."

"But you have wider tastes!" the dirty villager grumbled. "Everybody's your type. Type A...type B....type O."

"Gentlemen, please," Philip calmly interrupted. "I don't agree with George's decision any more than you do, and he can annoy the bloomin' hell out of me, but perhaps this is the problem. We're dead now, we shouldn't give in to our past mortal...or um, undead...desires."

"Vhy should you talk?!" Vas angrily groused. "Vhat about your little eating habits, hmmm? Seems to me you vouldn't need to eat everything in the kitchen any more either now that you've passed as vell!"

"Not to mention most of us were wild creatures in our forms," Irisi snidely spoke up. "Whereas you, Philip, are nothing more than a giant house cat!"

Philip frowned angrily, his round face pursing up into a miffed glare. "And just what exactly is wrong with that?! It simply means I can control my animal instincts and not run about like some raging beast."

"It's pathetic!" Irisi continued. "Seeing you lounge about over five foot stools, asleep at the end of the bed, getting amusement out of simple cat toys..."

"You played with that ball of string yourself, mother," Sanura remarked, as she stared into the wood grain of the table with a bored vacant stare.

"Shut up!" the princess hissed through gritted teeth.

"Irisi is right!" Nekeesorf scoffed while pointing an accusing finger at the liveryman. If you were any kind of respectable werecreature, you'd embrace the wild instincts of it."

The liveryman's eyes widened in amazement. "Who are you to talk about wild instincts? You turn yourself into half of a domesticated horse!"

"Nu-uh!" the young prince tutted slowly, waggling his finger confidently. "It's a mustang."

Philip rolled his hazel eyes heavenward. "Sure, sure. Because we all know that large clunky carriage pulling Clydesdales are truly free wild creatures."

"I personally lay the blame on that Southern belle of yours," Irisi prattled on, in a tone similiar to a gossiping hen. "She's always pampered you and made you completely soft. I'm surprised she hasn't put a flea collar on you yet."

Philip's small eyes suddenly grew dark, as his face narrowed into a hardened glare. "Don't...talk...about her like that!" His tone was now hushed and hissing in direct contrast to his attitude earlier. The liveryman was able to tolerate many things, but when it came to Merridie and her honor, he always grew extremely defensive.

"Oh, and why shouldn't I?" the Egyptian continued in a callous tone, being completely oblivious to the growing anger within Philip. "Face it, she's done nothing but spoil you all the years you've been together. You may think you're well suited for each other, but in honor of our society it brings a bad name. Face it, Mister Elwood...that girl is not for you!"

That had done it. Those last few statements iterated by the princess had now completely snapped all of Philip's self restrain. Like a tempermental child, he pounded his fat fists down onto the table and shouted, "DON'T TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT!"

The liveryman's voice had now become a deep panther like growl, as it seemed to emit from his lips in an unearthly manner. In a flash, the liveryman's blue "skin" suddenly turned a bluish gold as fur sprouted everywhere. His round and pudgy face sprouted the fur as well, with the front of his face emerging out slightly to form a small feline muzzle. His pointed elf-like ears equally elongated to form cat's ears, while his hands and feet transformed into large stubby paws. Stooping down onto his back, he sprouted a long tail, as all of his hefty belly weight shifted to his new feline midsection. Where Philip had once been had now transformed into a fat cougar-sized golden tabby.

With agility seemingly unbelivable for a pudgy cat of his size, he bounded up onto the table and glared directly into the eyes of Irisi, sporting a large snarl on his face. Despite being a werepanther herself, the princess seemed genuinely intimdated - both at the fact that Philip allowed himself to become completely wild, and that he looked quite ferocious. Well, as ferocious as a fluffy and fat cougar looking cat could appear.

"Philip, please!" Medusa interjected in a concerned tone. The snakes in her hair were now flying into a tizzy, as they all attempted to scramble for cover from the large feline. "Don't let them get to you! We have much larger problems to face here than the petty ridiculing everyone else here is spouting!" She cast a hard disapproving gaze at everyone in the room, and in the process turned a small rat skittering across the floor into stone.

The large tabby turned its head over to the gorgon's direction, and softened his snarl into a sympathetic look. Sauntering over to his chair still in werecat form, he took a seat at the chair. He still cast an angry glare in Irisi's direction, but attempted to get everything on track. "You're right, Medusa. We need to continue onward..." Very quickly, the tabby turned his face once again back over to the princess, "Despite heartless catty women who have no regard for the true loves of others!"

Concerned over the whole situation between them and George, Medusa turned to the Witch who still had her face down on the table. "Lucretia?"

No reply came, except for the snoring of the Witch.

"Lucretia, dear?" Medusa grabbed her by the side and shook her gently. In an instant, the Witch flew upright, hitting her head on the back of the chair. "Lucretia, you have some insights into the future and reasoning. Do you know of any way we can reason George to listen to any of us?"

Blinking in a drowsy state, the Witch lifted her hands up to the purple cloth wrapped around her head. Rubbing her temples, she appeared to concentrate silently. "I see...I see the future. Yes...I see...I see great danger! Upheavel! Anarchy! A great menace!"

Everyone in the room hushed in awe as they all stared raptly at the Witch. They lingered upon her words, hoping to gain new insight.

"I see it clearly now!" her voice grew higher in great excitement. "A great menace! Someone will cause great horror in the future! His name is..."

Everybody leaned closer onto the edge of their seats.

"KAISER WILHELM!" And with that the Witch fell face down on the table again in a sleep.

The group just looked around at each other in utter confusion.

"I didn't even live through that time, and I could have predicted that," Nekeesorf snorted while brushing his fingernails on the poofy sleeves of his royal purple tunic. "Everyone knows that us centaurs are the wisest and most sage of any magical creature out there." The prince let out a sniff of smugness as he puffed up his large chest to an even greater size. Philip wrinkled his nose in disgust, thinking to himself it still nowhere near matched the swelling of his egocentric head.

"Ve should have just asked Leota to join our group instead," Dracula grumbled, his fingernails rapping impatiently on the table.

"Technically she's a medium and not a witch though," Rothbert corrected. "And remember what she said - "I don't want to be associated with you bunch of freakish peasants.""

Sighly deeply in exasperation, Medusa turned to the chair next to her. "What do you think, Philip..."

However, the seat was now completely vacant. Craning her head down and around the side, she witnessed the large tabby under the table as he playfully chased a mouse. The portly feline took great fun in bounding large thumps closer to the rodent, and attempt to bat it around with his paw. Pouncing around in a circle, he then came to face the gorgon peeking under the table.

"Oh, heh..." Philip chuckled and grinned sheepishly as he tried to hide the mouse behind his back. "Sorry about that." Climbing out from under the cloth, the werecat resumed his seat at the head of the table.

Clearing his throat, he began to rub a paw around his chin as he mused silently. "I think we only have one solution here. We all need to go and discuss with George. We've been trying for too long to talk alone to him that I think it's time we spoke together."

Everyone all looked at one another in silent agreement. Nekeesorf and Irisi still harbored some quiet grumbling, but they knew deep down it was the best solution.

Philip surveyed the table with a large grin on his feline face. "Very well then, if there are no objections, then I proclaim the meeting to be adjourned and we all discuss with George now."

With a whack of his small squeaking hammer, the werecat proceeded to officially close the meeting. At the signal, everybody all quietly stood up from their places and filed out the door on their way to George's study. The only delay was the fact of the Witch of Walpurgis still sleeping face down soundly on the table. Medusa gently attempted to rouse the sleeping sorceress to no avail, and eventually led to her and the Count having to carry her upon their shoulders out the door.

Philip watched as the others quickly dispersed out to the hall before following himself. Deep down in his gut, he could feel something right was about to happen. Somewhere within him he knew it would be today; George would finally listen to them and hear their representation to join the others in the haunting of visiting mortals. A large smile crept across his face as he thumped down the hallway in anticipation of what would happen. And even more joyously, he couldn't wait to see the reaction on Merridie's face when he would tell her of what he had done today.

Everything was going to be completely perfect.

"OI! FATTY PHILLY KITTY, GET ME SOME BOOZE!"

Asher's voice rang through the halls and seemed to dig under Philip's skin as he winced at the sound. Well, it almost had been perfect...


End file.
